


Break-in

by habitatfordeanwinchester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2015-04-11
Packaged: 2018-03-22 10:04:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3724810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/habitatfordeanwinchester/pseuds/habitatfordeanwinchester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean didn’t know what possessed him to get in the Impala and drive across the country. Or maybe he did, but he was too much of a chickenshit to admit it. It certainly hadn’t been an easy trip. Stanford was thousands of miles away from Lawrence. Twenty-six hours of drive-time if you followed the speed limit (which he didn’t). So like it or not, ending up five states away at his best friend’s doorstep at 1am was not something he could brush off as an accident, and that scared him.</p><p>***</p><p>Dean Winchester leaves Lawrence on a whim to go to visit his childhood best friend, Castiel Novak, at Stanford. He breaks in, intending to make this a surprise visit. but things don’t quite go as planned when Castiel initially mistakes him for an intruder.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Break-in

**Author's Note:**

> This is the most pure, plot-free fluff that I have ever written. It may even be the most plot-free fluff _anyone_ has ever written. This ficlet goes along with [this gifset](http://habitatfordeanwinchester.tumblr.com/post/116141237272/destiel-au-dean-winchester-leaves-lawrence-on-a) I made for Destiel Week 2015. 
> 
> You can find me on [Tumblr](http://habitatfordeanwinchester.tumblr.com/) or [Twitter.](https://twitter.com/heatherkcassady)

Dean didn’t know what possessed him to get in the Impala and drive across the country. Or maybe he did, but he was too much of a chickenshit to admit it. It certainly hadn’t been an easy trip. Stanford was thousands of miles away from Lawrence. Twenty-six hours of drive-time if you followed the speed limit (which he didn’t). So like it or not, ending up five states away at his best friend’s doorstep at 1am was not something he could brush off as an accident, and that scared him.

 It scared him that Cas might look at his presence and know exactly what Dean was scared to say.

It was a good thing he had a lot of practice ignoring his own feelings, because if he’d really let himself appreciate the gravity of what he was doing, he probably wouldn’t have been able to get out of the car. He made his way to the front door, double checking the address on his phone. He could feel his heart rate speeding up in anxious anticipation. He couldn’t believe it had been months since they’d seen each other without the aid of computer screens.

Thinking about the last time he’d seen Cas wasn’t really something he liked to do. He knew he had no one but himself to blame for that day Cas had driven off, his long suffering Pimpmobile full to bursting with clothes and furniture for his new apartment.  They’d exchanged goodbyes on the sidewalk. Dean had so many things he wanted to say but he’d swallowed them down so Cas wouldn’t hear the lump that was stuck in his throat.

“I’ll see you at Christmas,” Cas had said, trying to smile at him.

Dean wanted to remind him that he could call anytime he wanted, that they would Facebook message every day, that Dean would be thinking about him…but instead all he’d done was nod solemnly. Cas had grinned at him like he understood and opened his arms for a hug.

Dean was usually the one who held back from physical contact but this time he’d surprised himself, pulling Cas in tight, breathing him in for what promised to be the last time in a long time. He’d patted Cas’s back, instead of burying his head against Cas’s shoulder the way he wanted.

After a moment they’d pulled away and Cas had given Dean that look he reserved for the times when he knew Dean wanted to say something but wouldn’t let himself. That look that promised not to judge him, if Dean could only lend himself the same courtesy. But Dean wasn’t that much of a dick. He might have been in love with his best friend, and sure, he might not have admitted it to himself until the worst possible moment, but he certainly wasn’t going to ruin this day for Cas. His friend had a long day of driving ahead of him today, and yet another one tomorrow. He didn’t need to spend it thinking about how Dean was a giant cry baby who didn’t want him to leave. Cas had great opportunities waiting for him at Stanford, with even greater people, of this Dean was sure.

So after they’d said their goodbyes, as Cas was getting into his car, Dean had dropped his hand on Cas’s shoulder. For a moment he searched for the right words that would encompass everything he wanted to tell him.

That Cas was the best friend he’d ever had. That Dean was proud of him. That he was loved. There was nothing that could quite do the job, or at least nothing he could let himself say. But Cas was looking up at him with those big guileless blue eyes and Dean had to say something.

“Don’t ever change,” Dean told him, annoyed by the way his voice grew rough with emotion.

He’d thought about that moment a million times in the months that followed, going over it again and again and wishing he’d done it differently. But now was not the time to dwell on the past, now was the time to remember everything he’d ever read about picking locks. Even though they hadn’t talked in a few days, Dean knew Cas was probably asleep at this hour and he was perfectly content to let himself in and let Cas notice him in the morning. Honestly, he was pretty sure this was the most considerate he’d ever been during one of his surprise visits.

It took him a few minutes but the lock eventually gave in and Dean made a mental note to have Cas get that fixed. Someone dangerous could get in if they were sufficiently determined.

Cas’s apartment was dark and altogether different than he expected, smaller than it seemed from what Dean had seen during their Skype conversations. The front door opened into a kitchen and Dean could see the living room just down the hall and to his right. He snorted when he saw Cas’s books and papers strewn all over the end table and kitchen counters. For someone who had their life so together, Cas was hilariously messy.

He toed off his shoes at the door and quietly began opening cabinets to find the glasses. He couldn’t see much so he relied heavily on touch. When he finally found them he filled one with water from the sink and gulped it down, having grown pretty tired and thirsty towards the end of his drive. (Actually, the more he thought about it, he was pretty sure he hadn’t had anything to drink since leaving the hotel in Colorado this morning.)

His thirst finally sated, he made his way into the living room, stepping neatly over folders and the occasional sweatshirt that littered the floor. He examined the couch for a second, trying to determine which way he wanted to lay when he heard movement behind him. He’d thought he might have heard something before, while he was filling his second glass of water, but that didn’t lessen the surprise when Cas swung at him. Dean saw it coming in his peripheral vision and his body acted on instinct, grabbing the fist and twisting its owner to the ground. His whole body immediately followed through on the pin and he found himself pressing Cas into the floor, settling comfortably into a sitting position at his waist.

It felt remarkably like the wrestling matches he and Cas used to have as kids, when Dean had been trying out for the wrestling team. Ever the encouraging best friend, Cas, who much preferred spending time with Tolkien, had agreed to help him practice if Dean would finally marathon Lord of the Rings with him. By the end of that month Dean had a spot on the wrestling team and Tolkien had a lifelong convert.

A stray beam of moonlight from an open window chose the perfect time to illuminate their faces in the dark. Dean watched as the anger and fear on Castiel’s face melted into recognition, then to shock, his pretty pink lips forming a surprised little ‘O’ that Dean wanted to kiss right off of them. His heart soared at the feeling of finally being close to Cas again. The entire apartment smelled like him, like the good kind of conditioner Dean never bothered to buy and rain scented fabric softener. It was almost intoxicating, and when blue eyes met his own all he could think to say was: “What? No ‘Hello, Dean?’”

Cas’s smile was bright and infectious. At his words, that low, gravelly voice that Dean knew and loved, actually let out an honest to God laugh. Before Dean knew it he was laughing right along with him, beaming down at Cas like he was the most beautiful thing Dean had ever seen.

“You haven’t changed,” Cas said affectionately, smiling up at him while Dean’s heart skipped a beat. “That’s what you told me before I left isn’t it? ‘Don’t ever change’?” Cas quipped.

Dean stared at Cas in surprise and suddenly it felt a little hard to breathe. He’d regretted the words ever since he let Cas drive away, and his only means of comfort had been to assure himself that Cas didn’t care, didn’t know how close Dean had come to tipping them over the edge of this cliff they’d been dangling over for years. But now, here he was, being faced with the indisputable knowledge that Cas _did_ remember.  

 “That’s not what I wanted to say…” Dean found himself blurting out.

In the silence that followed he was suddenly very aware of the heat that rose to his cheeks, of the gentle grip he still had on Cas’s wrist from blocking the swing. The whole of the apartment was silent for a moment and Cas stared up at him in the dim light.

“What are you talking about?” Cas asked him slowly, like he was aware of stepping into a minefield and was doing his best to be careful.

Dean took his eyes off Cas for the first time to glance at the ground, the couch, anywhere that wasn’t blue eyes filled with endless understanding. His voice was shaky when he continued: “The day you left….that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Cas was silent for a long moment, giving him the time to compose himself and continue on his own. When the words didn’t come, he prompted tentatively: “…Dean?”

It came out like a flood, admissions that had been racing around his brain for months. A dam had been broken and all that was left to do was try to contain the wreckage. “I knew you were leaving. You didn’t have time to deal with my emotionally constipated shit anymore, Cas! I didn’t know if you’d care that I-…I guess I just want you to know, that’s not what I wanted to say.”

Dean’s heart was pounding hard and his cheeks were flushed so brightly that he was sure his freckles must stand out like beacons.  He could feel Cas’s heart racing too, the steady pulse in his captured wrist confirmed for Dean that he wasn’t the only one who was nervous. He was momentarily startled when he felt Cas’s fingers skim over the back of his hand.

“So what _did_ you want say?” Cas asked him.

Dean hesitated, gathering all the courage he could. It was scary but he _needed_ to tell Cas. “Lots of things. That you amaze me every goddamn day. That I know you’ll kick ass here. That I’ll miss you…”

“I missed you too, Dean.” Cas said quietly, and when Dean looked down at him he looked scared but also unmistakably hopeful. Dean’s heart started to race for a different reason. He loosened his grip on Cas’s wrist when he felt the other boy squirm, but to his surprise, as soon as he was free, Cas tentatively twined their fingers together, and that was it. Dean was a goner.

“That I need you…” Dean admitted around the lump in his throat, his voice coming out rough and lower than normal. It still wasn’t quite what he needed Cas to understand, but he was getting there. He didn’t know why he was so terrified of that three word sentence, something little girls said to their dogs, something he’d heard his brother murmur into a particularly delicious salad. It wasn’t rocket science. It shouldn’t be this hard.  And if anyone deserved to hear it, it was Cas.

When he finally let himself meet Cas’s eyes again he saw the ghost of a smile on the other boy’s lips. And Dean knew Cas understood. Cas always understood.

 “Dean, let me up.” Cas said roughly, and Dean felt him start to squirm.

His heart sank into the deepest pits of his stomach and he suddenly felt nauseous. It wasn’t a deliberate decision to defy his friend, but he was panicking too much to obey. His tone was pleading as he protested: “Look, Cas I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you I jus-“

“ _Dean Winchester!_ ” Castiel growled. “I have been imagining our first kiss for years, and I’ll be damned if the real thing is going to happen on this floor.”


End file.
